Girlfriends are Better.

I texted Greg while I was nearly half asleep a couple of nights ago. The sms basically went along the lines of, ‘I thought about shagging you several times’. 30 minutes later, for some unknown reason, I sat bolt upright in bed and realized that it wasn’t 7 a.m. in London, his message had come across late, and his wife could have taken his cell. I was freaked out of my pants (would have been if I was even wearing any to start of with in the first place) and sent him something like, ‘Yikes, ignore the previous message, my phone book’s all fucked.’ That was too freaky. I am glad he’ll be in tomorrow, he shags good without hurting me too much.

I came home today with a hickey courtesy of one of the girlfriends. We were fooling around in a secluded little café, and I started biting her ears and she started biting my everywhere back. I didn’t notice it but my mom did.

‘Oh my god. Who gave you that? Was is H or one of your ang mo boyfriends. Actually H better, because…’

I knew what she was going to say: more sincere.

‘What do you know anyway? How do you judge sincerity? You don’t know the people I’m sleeping with. And what makes you think I wouldn’t know it before you if they were not sincere? Anyway for that matter, have you even considered the possibility that I may actually be lesbian.’

‘That’s terrible! That means there’s no hope for you.’

‘Huh? What in the world do you mean there’s no hope?’

‘It’s just terrible!’

Good lord.

I told Greg once that if I was not dependant financially on the opposite sex, and had my own place, I would most certainly acquire a full-time bi-sexual girlfriend. Wouldn’t that be lovely? I’m attracted to pretty girls, especially if they happen to be my friends and happen to be very sweet. Dee and the Princess are two of the most fantastic girls I’ve ever met; I wouldn’t be bothered if they weren’t. But they are. Most of my girlfriends are, in fact. I’ll never understand men who complain about shitty, crazy girlfriends, there are just too many good ones around. I have loads, so nyahhh *grin*

Girlfriends are great.

Sure we’ll forever have this thing about our appearance going on between us. She’s sexier, but I’ve got nicer legs, her eyes are bigger… but my face appeals in this particular way and hers in another so there shouldn’t be competition in the first place, and so on. But they’re better because they’re sexier then the other guys I’m dating, it’s lovely to be able to touch someone without having them attempt to pressure you into fucking them, and most of all, they looks so sweet like they need to be taken care of. I have a strange feeling a couple of the girls I’ve been to bed with feel like that about me while I was feeling like that about them at the same time. Shell is a definite, mostly because she’s a little older, I suppose.

After I’d left her place a couple of nights before I went to HK (the night when I was supposed to have sworn off Martine, but got persuaded into giving him a call at half past midnight, because we needed dick, and he’s just great in bed, plus it was an excuse for me to see him, because I was dying to, then). Anyway, when she was sending me off, she kissed my forehead, insisted I took money for a cab, and asked me to call her when I got back home. Safe. That night was weird. We tried calling her neighbor (who taught mathematics in a primary school) to drop by. After he didn’t answer, we finally settled on the fact that everyone sane was asleep by midnight on a Sunday night, and that it was completely ridiculous for two perfectly gorgeous women to be running through their black books looking for dicks.

Time for a workout.

XO